Tame Him to Find The Others
by Just.Pieces.In.Their.Games
Summary: Katniss is General of the army opposing the Capitol and her Lieutenant Gale Hawthorne manages to let two soldiers disappear on his watch. Now, Katniss needs the help of the craziest sharpshooter out there to find them. His name's Peeta, and he's hungry for Katniss, just like Gale. She blames Peeta when they're nearly killed, and now he must save them both. SMUT/violence/language.
1. Chapter 1

_**Looky here! New story. Now, I'm not shy, and have no problem facing critics, but I'd appreciate it if you had some sense and didn't read this if you don't like it. :) Enjoy!**_

* * *

Katniss' POV

_**District 13**_

_** 1600 hours**_

His presence is overwhelming. He stalked into the room and every man sank into their seats, feeling inferior. He wears a sharp uniform with slicked back, perfect hair, as shiny as his spotless shoes. He looks very young. His skin is soft; lacking even one imperfection, but when he walks to me, a wolfish grin breaks the illusion of arrogance and intimidation.

"Hello, General Everdeen." he says in all kindness, his hands clasped behind his back and his chest looking mighty big. It makes me want to roll my eyes. Must every lieutenant be such a show off?

"Hello, Hawthorne." I sigh. So many times I have to deflect soldier's advances, even though I _am_ their commanding officer. This isn't the most brisk and professional army in the world, and trust me, I've tried to change that. "How have you been?" I straighten my back and raise my eyebrows, trying to look like I've actually slept in the last four days.

"Well, General. Yourself?" He sits when I nod to the chair opposite of me in this small, on-site restaurant. We're surrounded by young privates and older lieutenants, all eyes on either me or Hawthorne. He straightens his uniform, a sly way of drawing eyes to the flashy pins on his chest.

"Fine, thank you." I mumble, crossing my legs and leaning back, spinning the straw of my drink, the ice making a soft _clink_. It must be 100° here, and buzzing fans have been placed around me by buzzing soldiers. Usually I sport slacks anywhere I must go, but today I chose a skirt, falling just above the knees, maybe subconsciously because Hawthorne is here. He's always caught my attention, more so than anyone else at least. His real name is Gale, and I think that might be the turn off for me. Not a manly name at all.

"I heard the team is back from the Capitol. Is everyone okay?" I ask. About a month ago, I'd ordered one of our specialized teams to slip into the Capitol, get me information, and cause panic amid the wealthy in the safety of their own homes. It worked, but I caught wind of the rumor we were down two men, and whoevers fault that was, they're going to get their ass handed to them. The group consisted of fifteen men, and that was just enough to get the job done. Thirteen was not.

I take a sip of my tea as Hawthorne answers. "No, we're down two soldiers. Denizen and Kapree." I almost choke.

"_Excuse me?_" I snap, my voice overriding anyone's in a fifteen foot perimeter. Denizen and Kapree were the _only _women soldiers I had sent on that mission. Hawthorne has gone pale, scratching the back of his neck as he stares at the table. "My _two _women are _dead_?! Them and _only_ them?!" Every eye is now cast on me.

"I don't have the whole story, Ma'am. I did a head count and those two were the only ones not present. I didn't ask any questions, so they might just be AWOL." He says, no confidence backing him up anymore. He sucks on his teeth and looks up to me as I stand abruptly, my chair grating back on the concrete floor, and I jam a finger in his face.

"AWOL my ass, Lieutenant! Where are they?" I demand. He stares at me a moment, and then stands brusquely, turning his back on me and walking forward. I follow him; my shoes causing an echo to resonate in the cramped building, making every soldier stare.

* * *

The men stink. They're loud and disorderly, but when they catch sight of Hawthorne and I, they go silent. They form in a straight line on order, and my eyes graze over them, scoping. I stand before them as they stare ahead, straight as arrows, expressionless. "What happened to Denizen and Kapree? _Huh?!_" My voice causes one scrawny man to flinch. I go to him, standing before him as he shakes in his boots. "Nervous, Private?"

"A-a little, Ma'am." He stammers. He has big glasses and a small build, which make him look quite silly.

"Well that's nonsense. All I want to know is where Denizen and Kapree are." I whisper, tilting my chin up and looking down on him.

"I don't know, Ma'am."

A voice interrupts. "Whatta man, that Beetee." I turn my head, looking down the line of varying men, all of them standing stone still. Except one. He wears a smirk and shifts his weight, as if he had too much energy to stand there at attention. He has dirty blonde hair and a staggeringly square jaw, accompanied by baby blue eyes that dart to me. I stride to him, but I have no effect on his giddy mood.

"I'd imagine an asshole like you _would _have something to say in this conversation. _What happened to my women_?" I snarl. His eyes are still locked on mine and he rocks back on his heels.

"I have no fucking clue, Ma'am." He chirps. The soldier at his left closes his eyes with a soft, angry sigh.

"That's not good enough, Private." I grit my teeth and glare at him, but all he does is gnaw on his lip and continue to rock back and forth. The punishments we're allowed to administer are harsh: we can do anything from make the soldiers clean everyone's shoes to whip them in front of their comrades. "What's your name?"

"Peeta Mellark." He says, blinking once for the first time that I've been standing in front of him. I'm familiar with his name; I've heard of him before. Mellark is a sharp shooter and a damn good one at that, with strength that beats anyone of his size as well. But he's fucking nuts. He's cleared all of his mental health tests, but he's a pathological liar and has no common sense. If you tell him to go straight he'll turn left, and when you tell him to turn around he'll sprint forward.

I scoff. "Come with me." I order, turning and walking towards the exit, and he follows with a skip in his step. One man coughs to cover his laugh. I push Mellark outside, slamming the door as he squints against the evening sun.

"You like it rough, General?" he asks.

"You keep your mouth shut, Mellark. I want my questions answered, and I want them answered _now_." I've long since learned to ignore banter about sex; being one of the highest ranking officers _and _a woman, you're bound to be hit on by some real creeps.

"Was that some kind of oxymoron?" he drones, tilting his head to one side and shoving his hands in his pockets. He wears the normal military attire: Dark gray and black camouflage pants with a shirt the color of ash that's soaked with sweat like every other soldier.

"I should have you sprint fifteen laps around the base." I grumble and he beams at me.

"I can go all night long, General."

"WHAT HAPPENED TO DENIZEN AND KAPREE?!" I yell. His eyes widen a fraction of an inch, and he takes one hand out of his pocket and rubs his jaw with it.

"They disappeared, Ma'am. I already told you, I don't know what happened." He shrugs, crossing one arm over his broad chest. "Denizen refused to stay in one place. She got a lot of attention from citizens of the Capitol. Men citizens. So did Kapree, but she didn't like it as much. Maybe they were raped or something, I don't know."

"You say that with such ease, Private." I growl.

"If looking down the barrel of a gun doesn't scare me, the thought of assault won't either." He says, looking around.

"Do you have ADD or something? I'm still talking to you!"

"ADD, OCD, ADHD, you name it." He tells me, looking back to me with an amused smile. He's drifting me away from the subject and he knows it. I can't tell if he's insanely stupid or amazingly smart.

"I'm keeping my god damn eyes on you, Mellark. You've made every single one of my red flags fly up, you hear me?"

"Loud and obnoxiously clear, General." He does a mock salute, and it takes all of my energy not to slap him.

I turn away from him, mumbling, "Go back, soldier." I stride away, blinded by well hidden rage.

Peeta's POV

_**District 13**_

_**2200 hours**_

That's how I like my women. Like General Everdeen. Sexy, stern, and rough. Man, she's hot. There's nothing like a woman in charge. Those gray eyes and that dark brown hair… God, they make me hard.

I laugh for no reason, sitting on my makeshift bed in front of Finnick.

"What'd she say?" he asks.

"A whole lot of nothing." I say, untying my boots and slipping them off as I slow my breathing and my estranged laughter.

"You're fucking crazy, you know that, right?"

"I'm very aware, Odair." I mumble, flopping back on my cot and lifting my knees, hiding my awkward, inappropriate boner. Yes, a woman threatening to make me run 20 miles turns me on. Just women in general.

Get it?

I laugh again, and Finnick lies down, pretending I'm not there like he does every night. You know, one reason I _hate _being in the army is because when you got a little problem brewing in your pants, you can't fix it. Even _I'm _not crazy enough to whip my shit out right here and start jerking off. You can't do it in the showers, either. Very bad idea. I turn on my stomach and trace weird shapes on the wall, many of them the shape of an hourglass-or Katniss' figure. That's her name, right? Katniss Everdeen?

Oh, I'd tap that on the drop of a dime. I wonder if I have a chance, you know, of fucking a general. I've "gotten to know" a few other women privates, which were like one-night-stand things.

I've made a resolution. I'll find the General tomorrow and I'll get to her. Laugh now, but I'll fuck her and I'll bet you solid money she'll like it. She doesn't seem too fond of me, but you know how they tell you in kindergarten if a girl is mean to you she likes you? That's my alibi.

Gale's POV

_**District 13**_

_**0700 hours**_

That asshole. Private Mellark has to be the STUPIDEST being on the face of this planet. He _skipped_ out of the room with General Everdeen last night like he was going to the park. He might be our best sharp shooter but he's replaceable.

I walk behind Ms. Everdeen as she stomps over the dirt path in heels with matching slacks and a white button up shirt. She's still pissed, and I walk with my hands nervously clamped behind my back. "Ma'am? May I ask what Mellark said last night?" I ask.

"Nothing. He said nothing!" she snaps, "He has to be the most ill-behaved soldier in this district! He is mentally retarded and a genius at the same time!"

"I'm not so sure about mentally retarded…" I mumble. She looks at me questioningly. "You see, Mellark has an IQ of 143. He's a near mastermind."

"You must have an IQ of four to think _he _of all people is a mastermind. He's not very coy, just rude!"

"What did he say?"

"He's very keen on hitting on his superiors, isn't he?" she snarls. My face flushes, and I clench my fists.

* * *

_**Review please!**_


	2. Chapter 2

Peeta's POV

_**District 13**_

_**0800 hours**_

I slip on one of my shoes, listening to the other guys talk. They think I'm deaf; they think I never hear anything they say. They're idiots.

"He's a moron. He thinks he can get away with anything." One ass whispers.

Odair joins in: "You know he's a genius, right?"

The door swings open and Lieutenant Hawthorne strides in just as I take a knife sitting on the floor by my untied shoe, about to chuck it at one of the soldiers. "Private." He snaps, standing at my bedside.

I look up to him, my lips curled into a snarl, and I hiss, "_What_?"

"Get your ass up. Come with me." I tie my shoe quickly, getting up and following Lieutenant out of the building, shoving my way through my comrades instead of easily going around them.

"Dick…" One murmurs under his breath.

Hawthorne leads me out into the morning air, stalking forward as he speaks. "Do you know the punishment for being crude to your superiors, Mellark?" He's wearing his same old uniform; a gray suit with small pins flashing on one side of his chest. I should rip them right off. He sees me staring at them, and snaps, "HUH?"

I clear my throat. "Yes sir."

"Amuse me, soldier. Do you _think_ I wouldn't find out about how fucking rude you were to the general?"

"You're not always the sharpest tool in the shed, LT." I mumble, crossing my arm. I'm still eyeing those buttons on his jacket. They're real nice, and I can't tear my eyes away.

"Are you going to come with me like a man or do I have to drag you?" he snarls. I sigh heavily. I knew this was coming, it's just I didn't care. I still don't. I'm going to have to endure some kind of punishment, like whipping or branding. They say this army fights for freedom, yet they treat their own soldiers like shit. Does that sound right to you?

"I'm a big boy, Lieutenant."

"I don't know that you are…"

* * *

I arch my back, grit my teeth and try to keep from crying out. Shackles keep me in place, restricting the blood from pumping to my hands. I've been stripped of my shirt, because God knows you don't want to ruin your precious clothes. I don't know the man standing behind me, cracking down on my back with a whip every fifteen seconds.

_Crack_!

"Son of a…" I gasp, clenching my eyes shut and waiting for the aching burn to ride off like a smooth yet crashing wave. There are a few soldiers to my left, watching in either amusement or horror. The ones that are aghast are young soldiers that need to learn how to stay in line, the rest sadistic, cruel sergeants. And then brightness washes over their faces as the door opens, and the unforgettable _clack _of heels assaults my ears as I feel another lash.

I groan loudly, panting hard. This is nothing. I've had worse. _Keep telling yourself that…_ I look over at the General, her hair falling over her shoulders in luscious dark curls, her gray eyes blocking off any emotion. I throw my head back with a roar when I'm belted again.

Katniss' POV

_**District 13**_

_**0900 hours**_

I must admit I feel a pang of guilt. I didn't have to tell Hawthorne exactly _what _Mellark did. Now I'm forced to stand here and watch as he's pelted with a strip of leather again and again. Hawthorne joins me.

"He's young and dumb, but he deserves this." He grumbles.

"I thought you said he was a far cry from dumb, Lieutenant." I say, tearing my eyes away from the young blonde. His gaze is on me. He won't look away. I can feel his stare even as I look to Hawthorne.

"He apparently has stored his IQ somewhere and doesn't bother with it. He acts like he has no brain at all." Hawthorne has deep, penetrating gray eyes, much like me. They're boring, in a way. I stare at those eyes every day when I look in the mirror, why would I want to see them anymore?

I would tell him this isn't fair. Maybe Mellark can't help it, since we're both here telling each other he's crazy. But I can't do that. I can't look weak. I'm vaguely aware the tormentor is leaving. Mellark has been unshackled and sits on the floor with his back bleeding and his wrists bruised. He reaches for his shirt.

"Don't." I say on the silent room, and he looks to me with wide eyes. "You'll just get blood on it." His lips quirk up into a smirk, and he slips his shirt on. Does his life revolve around disobedience? I turn to Hawthorne. "Leave. I want to speak with the private alone."

"But Ma'am-"

"Lieutenant." I warn. He nods curtly, yelling for everyone to get out of this small, dank shack. They hastily shuffle out of the door in a mass of bodies, and Mellark turns to me when we're in the darkness. There's a railing separating us, and I walk around in, strutting down the stairs to my right.

"You are one stubborn bastard." I say, my voice echoing, "Have you put up some sort of wall, disabling yourself to act normal? I've never met a man so ignorant."

"Make up your mind, General," he pants, "Am I a bastard or a man? There's a big difference between the two…"

"You tell me." I murmur. I clasp my hands behind me as he stands, stretching his back with a hiss. "I need your help, Private. I need to find Denizen and Kapree. I don't give a shit if you don't know where they are. I know you can help me find them."

"What's with your obsession with them?" he asks, "Anyway, do I get a favor in return for my assistance."

"I won't kick your ass."

"I was thinking I might _get_ a little ass." He says with a smirk. I can't take it. I raise my hand, smacking him as hard as I can. His head snaps to the side, and he closes his eyes as red spreads across his face in a blush. Why is he blushing?

"Watch your mouth, soldier!" I yell, for what seems like the millionth time, "Or god help me I will whip you myself!"

"I'd like that, Ma'am." He murmurs with a coy smile. _For god sakes! I can't get through to him! _

"What is _wrong _with…? You know what, never mind! You're going to help me find Denizen and Kapree or you will be six feet under, _do you understand_?!"

"Loud and obnoxiously clear, Ma'am." He says, just like he did last night. There's a hand mark on his cheek that screams like a wine stain on a white carpet.

"Tuck your shirt in, soldier…" I grumble with a scoff, walking away from him. He scrambles after me, shoving the hem of his shirt in the waistband of his pants. I turn with a frown. "Are you following me?"

"What gives you that impression?" he asks, grinning as he pushes the door open for me, his chest _very_ close to mine.

"Keep your distance. The last thing I need is to be suffocated by a mad man."

"So I _am _a man?"

"Continue to follow me and you won't be."

"I like you, General."

"Fantastic." I walk down the dirt path, ignoring a jeep as it buzzes by, cutting of Mellark. He runs after me when the coast is clear. Why does his taunting, sexist tone not irk me like it does with every other man? It's definitely not because he's bluffing. The last man I slapped-and there have been a few-backed off immediately. But Mellark… he blushed.

"So will it just be me in you going into the Capitol to find your lady friends? Sólo tú y yo?" He asks, skipping along beside me.

"What the hell was that?"

"Was what?"

"What you just said…" I question, narrowing my eyes and cocking my head. "Was that English?"

"It was Spanish," he says, "You've never heard of Spanish?"

"No, I've never heard of Spanish!" I snap, "Where did you learn that?"

"Listening to my neighbors when I was young. They were foreign." He tells me, and I'm astonished. He really does have a super-brain. I shake my head, looking down at his messily tied boots as I press my palm to my forehead.

"Go away, Private. I have things to do." I mumble, walking away briskly. He follows again. I would threaten to cut his balls off or something of that nature, but things like that go in one ear and out the other with him. He looks around at all the buildings, since he's most likely never been here before.

"You guys get all the fancy-ass stuff…" he says absently, letting his fingers brush by a passing car. I try to ignore his presence completely, walking faster as if that would help leave the impression we weren't walking together. I stop and turn to him, planting a hand on his chest and shoving him back.

"You need to learn your place, Private. And you can bet your sorry ass it's not standing next to me." I growl.

He wipes non-existent dirt from his chest arrogantly. "And yet you want me to stand by your side and help you find Denizen and Kapree. Seems like a contradiction to me, Ma'am." He blows me a kiss, which makes me flush with anger. "See you later, General." He calls, turning his back on me and striding away.

Gale's POV

_**District 13**_

_**1000 hours**_

The general stalks into the room with angry prowess, and the men in the room quiet down. She sits by my side, making me smile. This meeting was not arranged; it's purely her intention. "He's going to drive me bat shit, Hawthorne!" she gasps, settling down and pressing two fingers to her temple.

"What'd he do now?" I ask warily.

"He followed me. He thinks that-I don't know-he has some chance of sleeping with me, like every other man in the fucking district!" Her voice is low but intense. I blush a bit, running my thumb over the edge of the table.

"Maybe a stronger punishment would do him well?" I suggest. Just the idea of Peeta Mellark-a sharp shooter crazier than a shithouse rat-making a move on Katniss makes me shake.

"Like what? Dunking him in a vat of acid? That seems like the next step up from countless whippings."

"I don't know, Ma'am. You know best."

"Oh, please…" she grumbles, leaning back. I admire her legs as she stares blankly across the room: fine, meaty things, she has. I get a concoction of strange thoughts in my head, like those legs spread open for me… I need to stop. I cover my lap with my hands as I feel the embarrassing tightening of my trousers, and I cross my legs.

"You're the one that wanted _him _to go back with you to find your soldiers." I say with a shrug.

"Because he can do it! I know he can, but what I don't know is if I can stomach him for that long." she straightens her shirt, fiddling with one of the top buttons, undoing it. Did she seriously just do that? I swallow hard and try to maintain the normal conversation.

"He's a good tracker, and if he drools over you so much he won't run off. You won't have to keep him on a leash." I tell her.

She sighs heavily, murmuring, "You're probably right…"

* * *

_**Review please!**_


	3. Chapter 3

Katniss' POV

_**District 13**_

_**1900 hours**_

I sit on my bed in my isolated room, looking at my feet. Fresh out of the shower, my hair cascades over my shoulders, small water drops appearing on my slacks. I've yet to dress my upper half, and when I do I do it slowly. I was thinking about Mellark earlier, and his reasoning for chasing after me like a hungry wolf. I can come up with nothing. There are better looking privates out there he has easy access to, but then again maybe they all know how truly crazy he is and I've yet to find out. A man that has an IQ of-what did Hawthorne say, 143? - And he totes around a gun that he could kill you with from a mile away. That doesn't sound stupid or dangerous at all.

I also think about if I really want him with me for the next few weeks as I search in the enemy's territory for two soldiers that honestly mean nothing to me. I take that back, they mean _something _to me. They're a certain unspoken pride I have. Women like me can make it anywhere and are definitely stronger than half the men here. There's no doubt in my mind I'll need Mellark's expertise and his power when I'm going somewhere unsafe alone; I'll need him perched on a building high above, watching me through his scope. The thing is I don't have confidence he won't pull the trigger with his sights set on me. He's a danger and a necessity, but if I'm afraid of a simple madman, why am I in the army?

_That's right Katniss, you're not afraid. You never have been. _I button my shirt conservatively-all the way to the collar-and head out to find Mellark.

Gale's POV

_**District 13**_

_**1900 hours**_

I see General Everdeen walking towards the men's barracks and sigh in frustration. Can't she just stay away from Mellark? He draws her in like a… magnet. That sounded stupid.

I jog after her, calling her name, and she turns to me with the ordinary scowl, as if she didn't want me to see her there. "Ma'am, where are you going?" I ask, not bothering to salute her. Maybe-just maybe-I can de-formalize this outlook she has on me by removing the salutes and "yes ma'am's".

"To get your men. They're coming with me to the Capitol to find my missing soldiers." Halfway through her first sentence, she turns and strides forward, and I walk alongside her.

"General, they're most likely dead and you know that." She turns with wide, angry eyes when I say that.

"They are NOT dead." She snarls, "And it's you and your dumbass soldiers' fault that they're MISSING!" I don't allow myself to flinch, but stand stoically still and she relents, sighing heavily. "I don't give a damn what you say, Lieutenant. They're coming with me."

"Even Mellark?"

"_Especially _Mellark."

Peeta's POV

_**District 13**_

_**1900 hours**_

Deep in a dream filled with naked women and ecstacy, I'm awoken by yelling; the voice of none other than the beautiful General Everdeen. My eyes fly open and I sit up excitedly, hopping in line at attention between Beetee and Finnick. They both glower at me. General's eyes slice towards me as I pop up, and I can't contain my smirk.

"All of you," she says loudly, pacing slowly with her hand behind her back, "are coming back to the Capitol with me to find the two soldiers you so graciously left behind." There's an arrangement of flashy pins on her chest-her left breast to be precise-that draw my eyes towards their sheen permanently. I feel Lieutenant Hawthorne's glare before I see it, and now he's striding towards me as well. He stands before me, towering over me, looking down on me with a disgusted scowl.

"Is something distracting you, soldier? Something you'd like to share?" The others continue looking ahead as if they heard not a word of what anyone was saying.

"Just those pretty medals, LT." I murmur, still staring, leaning back to see General Everdeen's chest around him.

"You are pathetic, Mellark. You think I don't know what you're looking at and it's truly comical."

"I'm sorry, was that directed towards me?" I ask. I really was paying no attention, but my brain has an annoying trait of picking useless information up anyway. I still have half a mind to rip the buttons off of Lieutenant's shirt.

"Before we hop on the plane to the Capitol, expect punishment, you piece of shit." He snaps quietly, walking away. I didn't really deserve that, but okay. I continue to watch General as she talks.

"Pack your things. We leave at 0800 hours tomorrow." She concludes, and my eyes widen when I realize she's exiting already.

"General?" I ask, and with a roll of her icy gray eyes she looks to me. "Will the man with a stick up his ass be coming?" I point to Hawthorne.

She smirks and looks to him. That's not a good look. "Why don't you have a word with Mellark in private, Lieutenant?"

"Will do, Ma'am."

_Damn._

Gale's POV

_**District 13**_

_**2300 hours**_

I have really enjoyed my time watching Mellark pace in a cell through a one-way mirror. I've decided his punishment will be isolation and branding, which may I add is completely okay in the rule book. I'm just not allowed to lessen his work on the field, and an aching burn constantly reminding him to behave will do no such thing. It's been five hours now, and Mellark has been reduced to staring at the door to his chamber with his nose basically touching it. When it opens he stumbles back with a wince. He's yanked out of the cell, and as I join the sergeant escorting him to his next room, I ask him if he really enjoys this.

"Are you some form of genius turned sadist?"

"Are sadists not allowed to be geniuses?" he asks, looking to me with a faked, quizzical frown.

I shake my head. "You're an idiot, Mellark. I swear, if you act like this while we're in the Capitol I will literally feed you to the dogs."

"What kind?" He stops as he says it, looking to me. I frown, mouth agape. I really have no idea what he's asking me. He gives a short, manic laugh. "What kind of dog?" He clarifies.

"For Christ sake… Go!" I snap. He walks again, and is forced through a narrow doorway with his oversized escort.

"Oh, this looks fun…" He mumbles sarcastically as he looks at the shackles around him. His shirt is taken off, and I hold off a grimace at the still-raw gashes on his back as his arms are lifted and closed in the handcuffs. His feet are locked in clamps bolted to the ground. I sit in a chair, readying my ears for the worthless soldier's scream when the door opens. The oversized sergeant turns the branding iron as its front half heats up in the small warm fire. I look to the door, seeing a small, petite soldier standing there, looking to me with oversized and sunken in blue eyes.

"… Yes?" I ask.

"General Everdeen sent for you." She says with a voice sounding like it belonged to a child. My brow furrows. General Everdeen wants me to join her at this time at night? The reasons behind her crave run through my mind, and I get excited before I even respond. "I'll be there in a moment." The girl nods shakily and backs out of the room, closing the door decisively. When I look back at Mellark, he's watching the sergeant pull the prodder from the fire.

"You really must learn to keep your mouth shut, Private." I say, standing and swinging open the door. I close it seconds before his earsplitting scream echoes through the building. Punishment after punishment, he still recovers and acts as if it never happened.

* * *

I forget Mellark completely and head to General Everdeen's room, making sure I look rested and well, even though I'm tired and feeling a bit worn out. I knock on her blank, gray door and she opens it moments later.

"There you are." she says, "Where've you been?"

I sigh heavily, stating one name. "Mellark."

"Still?"

"Yes, still. He deserved what he got, just like last time." I slide into the room nonchalantly, looking around. "You called for me?"

"Yes. I wanted to speak with you. Originally, I didn't want you there when I took your soldiers back into the Capitol, but now I'm rethinking that." She admits. I see her nervously rub her elbow; maybe she thinks I wouldn't catch that but I did. She gnaws on her lip as well.

"And why's that?" I question softly.

"Because of Mellark." She blurts. _Of course._ "I can't get control of him but you can. I think, maybe I'd be unsafe if you weren't there to tame him."

That's why she's looking so bashful. She's standing before me, admitting a fear. Admitting she wants me by her side and that she actually may need my help. It actually makes me smile. "There's no taming Mellark… But if you'd prefer me there with you…" I lay the charm on thick. Her gray gaze darts up to meet mine, and I start to worry I might get a hard-on standing here looking at her. That would definitely make her revoke her offer. It was silly of me to come in here thinking anything sexual was her intention, but that doesn't mean I can't change the outcome of this meeting.

"I would just like you there keeping an eye on him. Not me." She says, and I feel a wash of disappointment. Is she onto me?

Katniss' POV

_**District 13**_

_**2300 hours**_

I stand here, looking up at Hawthorne. I don't understand the look he's giving me or his tone. It's soft yet… I don't know, intentional?

_But if you'd prefer me there with you…_ It makes me feel dependent. So I tell him, "I would just like you there keeping an eye on him. Not me." I don't need him babysitting me. His eyes dart to the left for just a moment and then back to me.

"I didn't say I thought you wanted otherwise, General." He recovers smoothly. "In fact, I'd like to come." His smile is the bite of a snake, quick and unprovoked.

"Why?" I ask.

"I really should go gather my things," he says, his eyes alight as he turns away, opening the door. "See you in the morning, Ma'am." I frown, standing there in my slacks and uncomfortable shoes at midnight, wondering what the hell just happened.

I undress and lock my door, setting my alarm clock for 7 o'clock. I slide in bed, thinking of Mellark once again. His peculiar actions and his ways of thinking and speaking, his lures like that of a wild animal in an exhibit. They all keep my mind reeling, as if he was a puzzle that my mind obsessed over figuring out. I fall asleep with that wily laugh riding my train of thought.

* * *

_**Review?**_


	4. Chapter 4

Katniss' POV

_**District 13**_

_**0800 hours**_

The men are quiet as they board the airship, each taking station at one of the chairs gripped to the wall. I see a few heads hanging in dread… or maybe they're just asleep. Mellark is one of the last ones to come aboard, walking stiffly with a hand over his chest, no doubt mewling over his recent burn. I stop myself from saying anything when he throws his bag down like a pitiful child having a tantrum. If I spoke up, I'd just be asking for shit from him.

_Listen to yourself, _my conscience tells me, _it's HIS job to be scared of YOU. _

Hawthorne joins me, sitting next to me, isolated from the men. I frown. _No salute? _"Good morning, General." He says smoothly, straightening the buttons of his shirt.

"I think you're forgetting your manners, Hawthorne." I mumble, watching the men. Some look sick to their stomachs, green even. Mostly the one with the glasses, Beetee. He looks like he might throw up.

He smirks to himself as the door is closed and the lights dim to a point you can't see your hand in front of your face. "Not at all, Ma'am." He purrs. I open my mouth to say something but… I have nothing to say. Is he coming onto me?

"Well than you must be getting sick because you're not acting yourself." I manage. I sound like an idiot. The soft murmur of a few men talking fills the ship, aside from the far off whir of the engines.

"You could say that, Katniss." My jaw drops when he says that. I turn fully in my seat, gaping at him in the darkness.

"Lieutenant." I snap, "I don't know what the hell is up with you but you need to watch yourself. It's not your place to befriend me."

"I don't know if I'd use the word '_befriend'_." I hear him shift in his seat, and I feel small, like I'm no longer higher than him. I calm myself, realizing my breathing was getting a bit ragged. No literally no words come to me. "You know, my men are responsible. They can handle themselves. You and I don't have to be there with them…"

My stomach turns. "Your 'responsible' men are the reason Denizen and Kapree are gone." I stammer. Is he really suggesting what I think he's suggesting? I would _never_ go on a date with Hawthorne, or _do_ what he might be suggesting. "So I'm going to go ahead and say your men need to be looked after. And you're not doing a good enough job."

"Well I-"

"If you say another word, I swear to god I'll have you whipped." I bark. The men fall silent. Lieutenant clears his throat, huffs, and does the same.

* * *

Landing is a bit more exciting than taking flight. We must be silent; making sure everything is collected as we wade into the dark building we landed on. I see Mellark has his gun thrown over his shoulder with a dark wet spot on his shirt that I'd imagine is… _something _leaking from his burn. I cringe, and Hawthorne is the first to speak.

"Around the time we lost Denizen and Kapree we were closer to the heart of the Capitol. We'll have to get there but do it carefully." His jaw seems to tighten when he turns and looks at Mellark, talking to him with an air of authority around him. "You'll travel on the rooftops, looking out as we pass. We can't travel as a group. If you mess up, you're fucked, you hear me?"

Peeta takes his time answering. Bravely, his eyes stay locked on Hawthorne's. "What's that mean?" he retorts.

Hawthorne becomes a shade of aggravated red. "You know damn well what it means. And if you pull that trigger unlawfully, I'll take care of you myself."

Audacity gets the better of Mellark. He cocks his rifle threateningly and my eyes grow wide. "Let's move." I snap, and all the soldiers get their asses going, including Mellark. Eventually, he splits off to head to the rooftops discreetly. I've never looked over my shoulder more.

We head out two at a time, and I order the young man Finnick to come with me. We walk about ten feet away from each other, and all eyes are on him, thankfully. The young women he passes bat their eyelashes and giggle at him, being overly flirtatious. He ignores them for the most part, except for when he passes a young dark-haired girl with green eyes. His feet stop moving and he turns as she walks by him, but I keep moving.

"Damn flirt." I grumble, feeling eyes on me. I tell myself it's Mellark. I slip through the thick crowd, observing the peculiar styles of the Capitol's citizens. I've been trained to nervously peer around me for cameras and in the blink of an eye, know their range and how to get around them. The cars in the street make me edgy; big, fast moving death machines, that's all they are. One stops, and a few Peacekeepers pile out.

_Peacekeepers? Why are they here? _I look hard for Mellark, spotting the sheen of the barrel of his gun reflecting sunlight up at the top of a squat building, rifle pointed at the new arrivals.

The Peacekeepers head into the building Peeta's on, and my breath hisses through my teeth. Finnick passes, mumbling under his breath subtly to me, "Someone saw the ship land." I hold off my shock as another truck identical the one the Peacekeepers arrived in passes by slowly. I wait for Finnick to be a ways off before rushing onward, eyes darting up to where Mellark_ was_. He's gone. There's a commotion in the building, and I stop dead in my tracks.

_No, Katniss. That's a deathtrap. Mellark would fire if he was in trouble…_ But Gale told him… "Fuck…" I mumble, being shoved along by the throng of people, and I go with the flow. I try to glance back at the building, but it's out of sight. Finnick's by my side in a moment's notice, and I mutter, "I've lost Mellark."

"You're not supposed to be looking for him. Sorry Ma'am, but keep your eyes down." He whispers, then he slows and disappears again. He's right. Mellark's a big boy, he can handle himself.

_It's you who can't handle yourself, Katniss, _I tell myself. I can't afford to lose Mellark. Suddenly, I duck to the left, jumping off the sidewalk, walking against the grain in the road, drawing eyes. More Peacekeepers are headed in that building, so I can tell myself I'm going to check out what's going on instead of I'm freaking out about losing Mellark so I'm putting my ass on the line. I dash across the road and dip into an alley, ditching my formal jacket, and then head in the building.

It's dark and full of men talking, and I've never felt so claustrophobic in my life-squished between dozens of _enemies_. I don't dare say anything, not even excuse me, because then a Peacekeeper would surely find me suspicious. I'm shoved into a wall, and a tall man with pale-blonde hair turns and squints at me. "Hey…" he says shadily, and I press myself against the wall. _Just don't hit him, Katniss. He can kill you if he wants, no one would care… or find out. _

… What the _fuck_ is this place?

"The hell are you doing here?" he asks, getting very close, "I don't think you's supposed to be here." I've never met such an unintelligent sounding human being. I slip away from him, heading up a staircase, and I hear the thudding footsteps of the tall man following. "Hey!" he calls.

Instinct makes my feet move faster, telling me to run. A door in the hall I turn into flies open, and I'm grabbed by overbearing arms that are seemingly made of steel. I'm thrown into a closet, and the door slams shut. Something's prodding my back, something cold and hard. A gun. I open my mouth, and the man shushes me.

"Be quiet," Mellark whispers, "what the hell are you doing here?"

I gasp, relief flooding through me. My pursuers footsteps pass us and fade away, and I grow red in the face, quite aware now of how disrespectfully close he is, his pelvis pressed to my knees. "_Me?"_ I ask, "Why are _you_ inside? You're supposed to be watching over us!"

"There are Peacekeepers crawling all over the place, if you hadn't noticed. And there's something up there, some kind of animal. There's something in this building, and they're protecting it with this… lion thing. It's a mutant." He says hastily, and I can practically taste the sweat on his skin. I turn my head to allow some space between us.

"We need to get out of here. Now." I hiss, and he huffs angrily.

"You think I don't know that? There's a hoard of Peacekeepers downstairs and a beast on the roof." I squirm, pushing against him as one of his arms laces around me, grabbing the shaft of his gun.

"You couldn't have possibly known that was me coming this way." I mumble, looking for a loophole to make him feel in the wrong.

"I was planning on catching a Peacekeeper and snatching his uniform. I got lucky." I can hear his smile in his tone, as well as some form of flirtation. "New plan. We get out of here and try to find a window or something to sneak out of."

"We're going to jump out of a window?" I ask, "That sounds safe."

"Safe? I'm not sure that's in my vocabulary." He snickers for some reason, and I hear the shift of him standing, and I manage to stand too. He makes sure his rifle is cocked, and he puts a finger to my lips. I slap it away. He opens the door, and dim gray light allows for some visibility. He peers around, gun pointed at the floor safely. I restrain from holding onto his shirt. We walk forward silently, and his broad shoulders block me from seeing ahead of us. He grabs a doorknob which doesn't twist, and then he tries another one.

"Peeta-" I say, clenching my eyes shut and cursing myself. He turns and looks at me with an audacious smirk. _Never, ever call a soldier by their first name…_

The door he'd just tested flies open, hitting him hard, knocking his gun from his hand and him into the wall. Three large figures emerge, looming in the darkness. "RUN!" Mellark snaps. I scramble back, unable to see Peeta against the shadows casted over the wall, and I turn, doing as he said.

I don't make it far before becoming hopelessly lost and dazed. I can't find a door or a window that gives me any more light than a dying lightning bug. I tug on a doorknob, fleeing when it doesn't open. Who knows what could be hiding behind them, ready to come after me when it hears my frantic searching? I hear a low growling, and I'm reminded of Peeta's story of the mutant on the roof. Slowly, I head towards a door that has a strip of promising light peering out from under it. I grab the unlocked handle, and turn it slowly. As I peer out of the door, I see it, hunched in the blinding sunlight.

It's a large beast with yellow fur and rows of teeth that jut out from its lips like jagged rocks on a deadly cliff. Large claws clench against the concrete roof, sounding as unfriendly as its snarl. There are no chains or bounds holding it back, but I see something that makes my heart drop; a small square above it by the edge of the rooftop, like a block of disturbed air or rippling heat waves.

A force field. The mutant hunches its back and gets ready to pounce, giving an ear-splitting yowl. Quickly, I pull the door shut, jumping back when the beast throws itself against it. One more hit like that and the hinges will break. I turn and run, stumbling when the beast bursts through the door into the hallway, giving an almighty roar, claws grating against the wood floor as it tries to get its footing.

The maze of halls seems never-ending, until I hit a dead end. I've lost the beast for a few moments, and I try to open one of the doors surrounding me. It's like a house of mirrors, every door making you think you have a different way out. One finally opens as the mutant rips down the runway towards me, and once again it slides past its target.

The room is lit by a lantern, a few Peacekeepers looking terrified at my sudden arrival, but they're also probably a little freaked out by the fiend on my tail. They move towards a door to the left but I beat them to it, flinging it open and running face-first into Mellark, the butt of his gun knocking the wind out of me, and we end up toppling on the floor. The Peacekeepers scream as the creature enters the room, but it seems confused at the sudden amount of bodies-potential meals. Peeta sees the glint of its teeth as it decides on its next victim: him.

Using his legs, he slams the door on the Peacekeepers, and my stomach turns at the sound of screams, breaking bones and dying men.

Peeta pulls me to my feet, throwing me back into a run, and he says, "I found an exit, but we're on the fourth floor!"

"We can't go up to the roof! There's a-"

"Force field, I know." He cuts me off, jerking open a door with one kick, and he leads me to a window in the corner. I look out, cringing at the uninviting cement waiting below. "I'll go first. If I don't break both legs I'll try to cushion your fall." He hands me his rifle, swinging one leg out the window.

"Wait!" I say, "There's got to be another way out!"

"We don't have time, honey." He tells me, and then he's gone. I gasp, sticking my head out the window in time to see him hit the ground with a roll. My heartbeat picks up tenfold when he lays still for a few moments, and the peaks when he groans. He sits up, grabbing one ankle. He looks up and me, a scrape running along his cheek. "Throw it, General." It takes me a moment before I actually drop the gun, and he has to stretch to catch it. He uses it as a cane, and stands.

"Hurry it up!" I call, and he flicks me off. He grabs a few garbage bags and lays them down, then motions for me to jump. I take a deep breath, slip both legs out of the window, and plunge downward.

The landing is hard and unforgiving, and I feel what must be broken glass pierce my back. I cry out, but it seems relieving to Peeta. Uncaringly, he pulls me up again, stopping when four or five Peacekeepers spill into the alleyway and point guns at us. He does so back. "Run," He says, "into the woods. I'm right behind you." He backs up quickly as I run in the same direction. Two gunshots ring out, and I hear the clunk of Peeta limping along behind me at top speed.

The woods are vast and unfamiliar. My watch reads 1100 hours, and I know the others must be long gone. We're stranded, stuck and wounded.

_Fuck…_

* * *

**Review please _:)_**


End file.
